The Sounds of Silence
by MiHnn
Summary: To a Time Lord who hears the music of the universe, there's nothing worse than hearing its silence.


**Written for who-contest on LJ. **

**Prompt: Noise**

* * *

**The Sounds of Silence**

**.**

She visits him whenever she can, almost every day when the work allows her. She sits beside his bed and takes his hand in hers, saying as many words as she can before she must leave.

She speaks of her family and of work, laughing when it is appropriate, sounding sombre when she needs to. She takes his hand in hers and strokes his knuckles gently in hope of stimulating a reaction.

He doesn't turn towards her, choosing to stay so still and so silent that he is so very different from the man she once knew.

He lies stiffly on the bed, blinking up at the white ceiling as the Torchwood monitors beep incessantly to remind her that regardless of his behaviour, he is still alive.

It is day twenty-three, and there is still no improvement.

Rose Tyler is steadily starting to lose hope.

=l=l=

_He doesn't feel her hand slip from his or the cold wind whip around him harshly. His hair flies everywhere and a shiver travels up his spine, but he still doesn't notice the things that he should._

Had he been someone else—had he been himself—he would have catalogued every change in his body from the one heart and the lack of a respiratory bypass system to the sweat on his brow and the slight tingling at the tips of his fingers that is caused by the weather. There are voices behind him, hushed and hurried as options are discussed and decisions are made.

He doesn't notice any of it. He simply stares at the place where the TARDIS once stood, his heart beating a medley of panic in his chest.

A brief touch on his arm causes his head to snap up in surprise. She stands before him, very much like the image of the last time he had seen her on this very beach, her eyes saddened and her smile strained. The corners of his lips quirk upwards, and even though the action is supposed to be easier than a frown, the muscles pull unwillingly. It hurts, and he smiles wider.

She leads him away from Bad Wolf Bay and he follows voluntarily. He tries hard not to count the number of times his heart beats per second. 

=l=l=

He looks at her sometimes when she speaks, his eyes glazed over and unfocused, but his head moves when she does, almost as if he is following her voice whenever he can.

The experts have nothing to add to his condition, simply placing him on observation until something in his demeanour changes.

It is day thirty-nine and he finally says her name. He says it softly, hoarsely and he doesn't look at her when he says it, but it is a positive change even though the doctors at Torchwood are cautiously optimistic.

Rose Tyler cries for hours following her visit. Try as she might not to, she hates the other him a little more each day.

=l=l=

_The travelling passes in a blur, as do the meals, the discussions and even the welcome he gets when he is taken to the Tyler Mansion. He touches the inside of his wrist instead, placing two fingers against the fragile skin to count the beats of his heart, letting the sound drown out every other noise around him._

He only smiles at Tony when the boy is shyly introduced to him, and he nods along politely when Pete tells him of everything that has been done to defend the earth ever since the last time he had been there. He doesn't even acknowledge Jackie when she asks him to pass the salt.

He only lets go of the steady counting when Rose takes his hand in hers and entangles their fingers in an effort to keep him still. He fidgets with the effort to not pull his hand away. He closes his eyes and listens to the slow thumping that runs through his head. 

=l=l=

He gets worse, so much worse. He stops turning his head and his eyes remain unfocused. Not a sound passes his lips even when a needle is pushed through his skin to take his blood. He doesn't make a sound, nor does he move.

He doesn't say, "Rose," again.

She kisses his cheek before she leaves and kisses his lips whenever she arrives. He exhales lightly at her touch on day forty-two. His hand squeezes hers on day forty-five.

Rose Tyler starts praying shortly after to a god she has never really believed in.

=l=l=

_He cannot sleep._

He is taken to Rose's apartment and given a guestroom, freshly laundered clothes and a quick guide to the place he is supposed to stay in. He doesn't take it all in accurately enough. He goes through the motions only to close his bedroom door quietly and sit in the dark if only for a while.

She finds him before dawn breaks, sitting silently on the couch in her living room amongst a collection of noises.

The television is on, as is the radio. The microwave beeps, the automatic beater is running inside a bowl and the telephone is left off the hook, emitting a dull monotonous tone that travels through her apartment.

She says his name, but he hardly twitches. It takes her pulling out all the plugs for him to finally look up at her. His eyes are wide, red-rimmed and empty, and so her breath hitches.

He doesn't say a word even though she kneels before him and takes his hands in hers. He only stares at her, looking every bit of a man who has lost too much to live.

She hugs him, whispers encouraging words warmly into his ear, but her Doctor's only response is to press his fingers painfully around her arms and make the distance between them bigger. 

=l=l=

The day his eyes focus on her, she doesn't notice.

She rattles on about the newest adventures featuring her brother Tony, her fingers caressing his subconsciously in the practiced movement perfected some time ago. She clucks her tongue and sighs at her mother's behaviour. She stops mid-sentence when she sees his eyes studying hers explicitly.

It's day fifty-seven and he listens intently to her.

Rose Tyler smiles for the first time in a long time as she continues her story without stopping.

=l=l=

_He doesn't say a word. He finds that he can't. There's a thumping in his brain that has been insistent, ever continuing, never stopping and always soft. It distracts him. It pulls away his concentration from the outside world. It keeps him from thinking._

He doesn't notice when he is placed in a facility, under the care of humans who are as confused as to his biology as he is.

He listens to the sound of his blood flow instead.

He hears nothing else.

=l=l=

The day he notices her, the day he finally speaks, is when she sings to him.

It is day sixty-seven when he breathes out, "Don't stop."

She hums softly while tears trail down her cheeks, and he closes his eyes as he breathes in gently. He reacts, he mutters, and he says her name, apologising the way he always did when he was once fully Time Lord. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he breathes out tiredly, his eyes vibrant and _alive_. She is grateful, kissing his palm through her tears as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

"What happened?" she asks, because she simply must know. "Are you—?" She can't bring herself to say the words. She has never been comfortable with the words 'death' or 'dying' and she never will be. "You will be all right, you hear? You're going to be fine."

His eyes remain closed even though his fingers tighten around hers. "I've never…" He takes in a quick breath before his eyes open tiredly. "I've never heard that sound before."

She brushes his hair from his forehead, her own crinkling with confusion. "What sound?"

He stares at her for a moment, his expression one of utter sadness. "Silence," he says finally.

She understands more than he need ever explain. He had his race once, and then he had his TARDIS. For hundreds of years he had the sounds of life and adventure swirling in his mind, always there, always encouraging, never absent.

Now he no longer hears the sound that keeps him from loneliness. And so Rose kisses his brow and promises to never let him hear or not hear that sound ever again.

He doesn't believe her, but he smiles anyway, a genuine quirk of his lips that she gladly mirrors.

_Fin._


End file.
